


Tooru's Nightmare Before Christmas

by PiningTsukkiEnthusiast



Series: Five Days of Ficmas [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fights, Getting Together, Half-Filipino Iwaizumi Hajime, I'm sure you're wondering why only christmas future is named for ghosts, M/M, Oikawa Tooru's Knee Injury, References to A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens, Sad with a Happy Ending, and i need an excuse to show off the filipino niina's teaching me, for no reason other than i love that hc, it eases the pain, oh and, uhh this is a sad boi, uhhhh, we love inappropriately placed humor, you'll just have to read the fic ;)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:27:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22088614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PiningTsukkiEnthusiast/pseuds/PiningTsukkiEnthusiast
Summary: Tooru knows he should go home, alright? He knows it’s Christmas Eve, his family is waiting at home for him.He knows Hajime would kick his ass for practicing by himself right now.What is Tooru even practicing for, at this point? Their volleyball season is over, snatched away by those damn crows, and he’s pretty sure his volleyball career is, too. What’s the point? There will always be someone better. Someone with innate talent, some fucking genius who he’ll never surpass, no matter how hard he works, no matter how his body breaks, no matter how–He takes a deep breath. That line of thinking might increase the power of his jump serve, but it did hell on the accuracy. He needs a clear head for a good serve. The release will feel better if he can at least be proud of the serve.Or, Tooru and Iwaizumi have a fight over Tooru not taking care of himself. When Tooru tries to sleep, he's instead visited by three ghosts who try to stop his path of self-destruction.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Series: Five Days of Ficmas [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1589929
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20





	Tooru's Nightmare Before Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Listen, as long as it's all posted before January 6 it isn't late because January 6 is the 12th day of Christmas anyways I don't think you'll cry reading this until chapter 4 but then again I've been wrong before so

Tooru knows he should go home, alright? He knows it’s Christmas Eve, his family is waiting at home for him.

He knows Hajime would kick his ass for practicing by himself right now.

What is Tooru even practicing for, at this point? Their volleyball season is over, snatched away by those damn crows, and he’s pretty sure his volleyball career is, too. What’s the point? There will always be someone better. Someone with innate talent, some fucking _genius_ who he’ll never surpass, no matter how hard he works, no matter how his body breaks, no matter how–

He takes a deep breath. That line of thinking might increase the power of his jump serve, but it did hell on the accuracy. He needs a clear head for a good serve. The release will feel better if he can at least be proud of the serve.

He bounces the volleyball on the gym floor, tries not to think about the trouble he’s in if someone finds him, and serves.

It’s perfect, he’s pretty sure, but a voice in his mind disagrees.

_Noya-chan from Karasuno would’ve picked that up,_ it tells him. _Ushiwaka-chan could’ve done better._

Damn geniuses.

He turns to grab another ball just to find the cart empty. Great. Tooru knows he should go home. He knows. But instead, he starts cleaning up balls, intentions set to start again.

Until the gym door opens, that is.

“What the fuck are you doing in here, Shittykawa?” The words are harsh, but the tone is soft, gentle. Like Tooru is fragile. Like he needs to be treated with care.

It makes him want to punch a hole in the wall.

“Oh, nothing, Iwa-chan!” he calls back in a forced singsong. “Just cleaning up the balls from the floor!”

“Come on, Tooru.” The words are soft too this time. “Let’s go home. Your mom’s worried half to death.”

“I’ll be home soon,” Tooru lies. “Go on ahead without me, ’kay?”

“God, don’t do this,” Hajime says, his footsteps echoing throughout the empty gym.

“Don’t do what?” Tooru asks innocently, ignoring the twinge he feels in his right knee with each step. He’ll need to ice that soon, but he can worry about it later.

“Are you limping?” Hajime’s hand catches Tooru’s arm. “I can finish cleaning up, then we’ll get you home.”

“Oh, and what? You’ll carry me, Iwa-chan? Like the helpless weakling I am?” Tooru challenges. It’s a low blow, a cruel smile. He knows it is. But he can’t stand when Hajime looks at him like… _that_. Like he pities Tooru, or something. Like he’s thinking, _poor Tooru, so distraught over his losses that he can’t even take care of himself._

Tooru knows that’s not what Hajime thinks of him, okay? He knows that Hajime sees him as strong and capable.

He knows that Hajime would not hold his punches to beat that into his head.

But he’s hurting, and he’s pissed off, and Hajime is the closest person right now. And Tooru knows Hajime can take it.

“I’ll drag your ass home by your ankles if you don’t come willingly,” Hajime snorts. He starts picking up the remaining volleyballs before rolling the cart into the supply closet. “Let’s go, Tooru.”

“I’m coming, okay?” Tooru snaps, pushing past Hajime to go outside.

“It’s fucking freezing, did you not bring a coat?” Hajime scolds, unwrapping his scarf from his neck.

“I don’t need you to take care of me like some infantile, Iwa-chan!” Tooru pushes the scarf away as Hajime tries to wrap it around him.

“Stay still, you whiny baby,” Hajime huffs, finally getting Tooru bundled in the scarf.

It smells like the cologne Hajime wears in the winter, cinnamon and _something_ , and Tooru hates that he knows it. Hates that even though he refused the scarf, he’s going to sink into it and inhale the comforting, warm scent of his best friend.

“You are limping,” Hajime sighs, looking at Tooru’s knee. “Make sure to ice it when you get home.”

“Are you my doctor, Iwa-chan? I do know how to take care of myself, you know.”

“Do you?” Hajime counters, stopping to look directly at Tooru. “Because you’ve been on a self-destruction streak ever since qualifiers, so, forgive me if I’m struggling to believe you.”

“Why do you care?” Tooru laughs emptily. “I mean, it’s not your body, so how does this have anything to do with you?”

“Because I–” Hajime purses his lips. “Because you’re my best friend, idiot. So, you’re stressing me the fuck out.”

“That sounds like a personal problem, Iwa-chan. I’m not responsible for your feelings.” Tooru pushes past him again.

“You don’t fuck your life over in a vacuum, Idiotkawa!” Hajime says.

Tooru doesn’t have to look back to know Hajime’s teeth are clenched, to know how close Hajime is to losing his temper.

_Good,_ the voice in his head says. Because the voice is him – him and, what was it Ushiwaka called it? His worthless pride, right.

“It affects the people who– who care about you,” Hajime says, like Tooru doesn’t know. Like that’s not the reason he pushes everyone away. Like he’s not hoping that eventually everyone will stop caring about him, so he _can_ fuck his life over in a vacuum.

“That’s still not my problem,” Tooru sings, walking faster despite the pain.

“Dammit, Tooru.” Hajime mutters something to himself in Filipino before running to catch up to Tooru. “Would you stop throwing a tantrum? I’m trying to have a real conversation with you!”

“No, you’re trying to have a one-man intervention for something that’s none of your fucking business!” Tooru accuses. “I just want to get home already.”

“You’re such an immature brat, you know that?” Hajime says bitterly. “I mean, seriously. Eighteen years of friendship, but it never ceases to amaze me how petty you can be.”

“I am what I am,” Tooru replies, crossing his arms in an attempt to preserve body heat.

“Do you need my coat?” Hajime asks, angrily unbuttoning it.

“Would you stop taking care of me while we’re fighting, it’s fucking weird!”

“I’ll stop taking care of you when you can take care of yourself!” Hajime spits. “Take my fucking coat before you get pneumonia and die!”

“Maybe I’d like that!” Tooru snaps back.

Hajime immediately stops. “Tooru?”

“Leave me the hell alone, Iwa-chan. I don’t need this.”

“Obviously, you do,” Hajime argues, chasing after him yet again. “Because that’s not a normal or healthy thought. Come on. I’ll go inside with you, we can talk about this–”

“I don’t want to talk about it! I want to get away from you!” Tooru turns on him, anger blazing in his eyes. “This isn’t your problem, alright? So just, fuck off already!”

Hajime grits his teeth and keeps walking. “Fine. Once you’re home, you don’t have to see me.”

_That’s it?_ The way Hajime isn’t pushing back makes Tooru feel small in a way he can’t explain.

“Fine,” he replies, thankful he sees his house coming closer. Tooru winces as he missteps, but he shakes it off. He’s close enough to home that it shouldn’t be a problem.

“Baka,” Hajime grumbles, easily sweeping Tooru off his feet, carried bridal style. “That’s what you get for stomping like a child.”

“I told you I don’t need you to take care of me, Iwaizumi! Put me down!”

“I’m not letting you limp all the way home, you fucking idiot,” Hajime argues. “You’ll just have to deal with it.”

Deal with it, maybe, but Tooru isn’t going to let him off easy, either. He squirms and kicks with a pointed glare, making Hajime strain to keep Tooru in his arms.

“You’re a shitty brat,” Hajime says under his breath.

“Then why do you keep wasting your time,” Tooru presses.

Hajime clicks his tongue and sets Tooru down on his porch. “Whatever, destroy your fucking body. See if I care.”

Tooru makes a frustrated scream in a closed mouth before storming inside and slamming the door behind him.

“Tooru?”

He freezes when he hears his mother’s voice. She sounds as worried as Hajime said.

“Oh my gods, I tried calling you, and you weren’t answering!” she chides. “And were you out there without a coat?” She grabs his arms and frowns. “You’re freezing. Come on, go take a warm shower, okay?”

“I’m fine, ka-san,” he lies, shrugging her off. “I just want to go to sleep.”

Her frown deepens. “You had a fight with Hajime, didn’t you?”

He rolls his eyes. “I’ll take a shower, alright?”

“Tooru.” Her grip on him tightens. “You’ve been like this for months. What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing,” he lies again. “I’m just tired. I’ll take a shower and then go to bed, yeah?”

She purses her lips. “Make sure you say goodnight to your sister when you’re done.”

“Sure.”

He doesn’t.

At eleven thirty, Tooru is still tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep. He was never any good at sleeping after fights with Hajime. Ever since they were little, if they fought, he’d be awake and guilty until he inevitably crawled through Hajime’s bedroom window to apologize. And then they’d fall asleep on Hajime’s bed together.

Well, until junior high. They didn’t sleep together anymore, both too tall to squeeze into a twin sized bed together. But Tooru would crash on the futon the Hajime had set up, knowing he’d be there.

Absently, Tooru wonders if the futon is set up right now. If Hajime is waiting for their routine to be complete, for Tooru to come crawling back, begging for forgiveness for his own shitty personality.

_Not a chance._ He won’t give Hajime the satisfaction. _I can sleep without feeling guilty._

Tooru pulls a pillow over his head and hopes for rest to come quickly.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [Twitter](https://www.twitter.com/lovingyachi) and scream with me about Haikyuu!! and other shit


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